For nearly twelve years, I have prepared at least one homecooked meal for my husband and myself every day. This is my contribution to our shared life, and it is a task that comes easily to me. I love recipes, and I love food. My kitchen is tiny and cluttered, but it is a Zen spot for my creative energy. That half hour in the evening? The one where I chop, bake, and sizzle while my dog is on guard for scraps that drop?It is a mediation, of sorts. I feel grounded, creative, and happy. Also, I love grocery shopping. (The trick is getting to the grocery store on a weekday, early afternoon. People hate grocery shopping, I suspect, because they go at the worst possible times.)

So when Travis and I recently shifted roles, with me taking on more of our household's income generation, he offered to tackle the weekly shopping."Sure," I said. "That would be awsome."I never expected to miss grocery shopping as profoundly as I do, but there it is. I miss it. While it is interesting to see the results of his shopping logic (four pounds of fresh salmon?), I miss the adventure part. What is on sale? How can I change ingredients to meals? As I grapple with the whole idea of gender roles, power dynamics, and a weepy nostalgia for the time I no longer spend in my kitchen, Travis suggests that I'm overthinking it. "As much as I love your cooking, I love being able to pay our bills so much more."This is true, too. I suppose.Challenge: What do you overthink? What activities tap into your creative energy? What chores do not feel like chores?